


Quick Hands

by Amari



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Live in NY, M/M, Non-RT AU, Pickpocketing, Rather, Stealing, Thievery, they don't work at RT in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amari/pseuds/Amari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is a master pickpocket, roaming the streets of New York. Maybe one more lift wouldn’t hurt, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quick Hands

 

Ray spun the newly acquired key ring around his fingers. It wasn’t the first set he’d lifted off from a poor schmuck today, and it won’t probably be the last. The day is still young, and he’s got streets to roam. That was the nice thing about New York. The thousands of clueless people too damn busy to notice their shit slowly disappearing from them. Since he was a 23 year old, wearing a red hoodie and jeans like anyone else, he barely registered on people’s radar. The only people that he had to worry about were the racists that looked beyond his “white-passing” skin and just saw him as a dirty Puerto-Rican. Those people were few and far apart, so in the end, he was just another person in the endless stream, and he was invisible. All it took was a shoulder shove, or an ‘accidental’ corner bump, and he’d have their wallets, their keys, anything of value would be swiped up without a single care.

Keys were always the dumbest thing he took, but it was where he got his start. When he was thirteen, he lifted a lanyard from a kid that often beat the shit out of him. The kid couldn’t get into his house for hours. The stories he heard about the dumb kid, crying outside his apartment, waiting for Mommy and Daddy to come home made him realize the power he had in stealing. Ray could always imagine the faces of people he took from when it came time for them to realize they were locked out of something, somewhere. Poor Marissa can’t get in car. Unfortunate Jonathan is locked out of his apartment. He laughed out loud thinking about it. However, with all the microchips slowly showing up in car keys, he wondered just how much longer he can continue taking entire key rings.

Ray continued walking down the street, thinking about his key-stealing future when he noticed the corner up ahead. It was a perfect blind spot created by the building hugging the space right up to the sidewalk concrete. Grinning, he planned just how to steal from his next victim, whomever they appear to be.

Two more steps forward, and he collided with a woman. Not just a simple bump, no, he might as well have been running straight at her. All of his weight was purposely thrown into her. She landed on her left side, purse up and digging into Ray’s stomach. Ray caught himself with his right hand next to her head and used it push his weight far enough off her so he didn’t crush her. Not that he weighed all that much, but he needed the precise amount of space between them for his other hand to dive between them. When the aim is dead-on, the speed of movement also increases. There was no time for fumbling fingers; only accuracy. The metallic clasp of the purse unclipped with a snap, and he snaked his fingers inside. With one sweep of his hand, he snatched her wallet and slid it inside his hoodie pocket. The time it took was just long enough for the woman to shove Ray off with all the strength she could muster.

Ray blushed and rubbed the back of his head. “I’m so sorry!” He apologized while standing to his feet. He offered her a comforting hand. She glared at the fingers a few seconds before allowing him to pull her up as well. Ray tucked both hands into his hoodie pocket.

“Watch where you’re going!” She scoffed, “You could have hurt me.” Her face was dusted a dark pink, to which Ray let out a silent snort.

“Sorry. Won’t happen again.” He said.

The woman clicked her tongue and turned on her heel. All but shoving her way past him.

Ray smirked. “Hey lady, you dropped something.” He called out to her. When she spun around, she saw her wallet in his hands. She stormed up to him, swiped it from his hands and stormed off. Ray was surprised she didn’t spit in his face from the shade of purple she was turning.

He checked his pocket, he managed to get about twenty-five in cash, and a debit card. It was enough for him to get himself a nice dinner later. If he did things quick enough, he could even go get a haircut to calm his messy black locks that started waving like the ocean when it reached past his eyebrows. He needed a shave too. Running his hand against his cheek, he felt the roughness of the patchy fuzz that was growing there. Thinking about it, there realistically wouldn’t be enough time for him to use her card for a haircut before she noticed and cancelled her card. Maybe he could lift some more cash, and then treat himself later.

It wasn’t too long before Ray found his next victim coming his way. There was a man with a black hoodie too big for his body. His eyes were purpling, probably from lack of sleep. A common look to the people of New York, but there was something else to him that made him stick out. He had a darkness to him that faded with a second glance. He appeared as if he were only in his early thirties. A glint of a silver watch peeked under the man’s sleeve. His shorts were baggy but Ray’s skilled eyes noticed the lumps in the man’s pockets. From previous experience, Ray figured that either this man was borderline homeless, or rich as hell and hiding it from people just like Ray. Or he’s hiding from people worse than Ray. (Ray hasn’t killed anyone for money, and doesn’t plan on it). Ray was hoping that the man was rich as hell, because he’d feel like an absolute bastard if he stole from someone that couldn’t afford to feed themselves tonight.

Ray kept walking down his side of the sidewalk causally. He’s just another pedestrian with nothing up his sleeve, after all. He closed his eyes and acted as if he couldn’t even see the man. Their shoulders slammed into each other, the space closed between them at the last possible moment. His fingers swept along the man’s pocket lining, not digging in just yet. However, they ran along the edge of his back pocket, and fished out a single that had been hanging out. Ray’s eyes flashed open and he spun around to meet with the person he collided with. The man’s is going to get a good look at his face, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take.

“Uh. Excuse you?” The man said, squinting his eyes, showing the wrinkles that instantly aged him ten years.He raised his shoulders in an aggressive manner. Perfect. More openings for Ray if he gets violent.

“Yeah?” Ray said, feigning ignorance.

“You wanna, maybe, I dunno, watch where you’re going?”

Ray chuckled, “Funny. That’s not the first time I’ve been told that today.”

The man’s eyes widened, as if something clicked in his head. His mouth opened and closed a few times. “Hey. You from around the area?” The question felt forced.

Ray shrugged, “Yeah. I guess you can say that. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Good.”  The man nodded, “Since you so rudely ran into me, mind telling me where Gestrobos’s Resturant is?”

Ray looked him in the eyes, dropped them, and then scooted in close to the man. “Hope you don’t mind the friendliness. Just a New Yorker thing.” Ray pointed to some random street, which actually was the street the stranger needed to go, but he really just wanted to direct his eyes away from him. He pointed a few was and then pulled his arm back to rest on the man’s shoulder. Here, with the stranger’s attention on the pressure on his shoulder, Ray slipped the man’s wallet out of his front pocket. With his first goal accomplished, he pulled back.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” The man said, offering his hand. The silver glint of the watch caught Ray’s eyes once again.

Ray shook his hand with both of his, placing one hand under the watch. A finger flicked the lock with just a little pressure, but pulled back without the watch.

“Oh, wait. Shit. Sorry I messed up actually it’s…” Ray leaned in again, swiping around the man, and taking the watch off his wrist. Misdirection is key.

When Ray finished, the man smiled and patted Ray on the back. “Thanks kid. Glad you corrected yourself. Would have been lost without you.” He looked at Ray directly in the eyes, “Now how about a hug?”

Ray backpedaled. “A… what?”

The man bobbled his head, “A hug. Where I come from, hugs are an acceptable means of thanks.”

“I-- uh. Sure. Why not?” And the two of them embraced. It was then that Ray realized that the man had some muscle under those baggy sleeves. He felt the warmth bleeding through the fabric as the man squeezed tight. Suspiciously tight for a simple thankful hug. The man pulled away, thanked him again, and left with a little wave.

Ray waited until the man was out of sight before he checked his pockets. Everything seemed to be in place. His key ring, phone, and other trinkets he’d taken, the man’s wallet, and of course, the man’s watch. Everything was where it was, and yet he still felt uneasy with the hug at the end of their encounter. He let out his worries with a sigh. There was nothing that could be done at this point if everything was where it was supposed to be.

Finally, his apartment complex was in sight and he wondered if he’s even had clothes that were nice enough to eat a fancy restaurant. Joel, the man whose wallet he snatched (he checked the ID), seemed to have a good amount of physical cash in his wallet. No credit or debit cards to speak of; only cash, insurance cards, and a Subway gift card. He had nearly one-thousand in cash in the leather case, and it made Ray wonder if he had enough time to go pick up a nice shirt and shoes before he went to go eat.

In front of the door, Ray surfed to his front pockets to fish out his keys. He pulled out the ring and flipped through the various keys and realized he couldn’t find his house key. All the other keys were still on there, the ones that were his, for work, and extra keys for friends, but his key, the one he really needed and didn’t have a copy of, was gone.

Ray slumped his forehead against the door and groaned. He slammed his head against the door a few more times in frustration. It was very possible that when he was putting the keys on the ring this morning that he took his off. Now it was inside, and the only copy in existence was the Landlord’s master key, and for all he knew, that guy was probably in another state.

As he started texting friends for a temporary place to stay, he heard the door unlock. Ray froze in place, unable to comprehend the noise of the shaking knob. There shouldn’t have been anyone inside the apartment. Even as Ray heard the suctioning of air between the two spaces, he refused to believe it.

Ash-speckled black hair, sunken eyes, and a shit-eating grin greeted him.

“Hey.” Said Joel from behind Ray’s door. “I think you have something that belongs to me.”

 

 


End file.
